


INK

by hrhiggy



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, tattoo artist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 18:43:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhiggy/pseuds/hrhiggy
Summary: tattoo artist!klaine. Blaine is a tattoo artist in California. Kurt is a nomad tattoo artist, living and working in a different city every few weeks leaving behind nothing but a few tattoos. Until he meets Blaine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> currently in the process of taking fanfic posted to my tumblr between 2012-2014 and archiving it here on Ao3. This fanfiction was posted to tumblr in February of 2013, around when my url probably would have been "klacoustic" (but i'm not sure? I changed it a lot). It has not been edited or changed since, and will not be continuing or updating in the future.   
> That being said, it was one of my favorite fics I wrote during my glee days, so I hope you enjoy it

Blaine’s in the ink room going through CDs to play for the shop when Santana calls him to the front. He sighs, glancing back and forth between two discs in his hands before ultimately deciding which one to place in the pile atop the sound system beside Santana and Lauren’s picks for the day. 

He pushes aside the barrier separating the ink and business sections of the shop (a mixture of curtains and beads) and steps into the front room. The front is where they do most of the business. It holds the cash register and a few chairs for waiting customers, along with samples of their work hanging on the walls. It’s early yet, the parlour doesn’t open until ten, so with the exception of himself and Santana the entire shop should be empty. 

But it’s not, because there’s someone standing next to Santana.

Their backs are to Blaine, Santana’s loose-fitting tank-top displaying the two songbirds that rest frozen mid-flight on her shoulder-blade– one filled in black, the other only an outline. The stranger’s button-up shirt covers the majority of his arms, but Blaine can see shadows of color under the white fabric. 

“You wanted something?” Blaine asks, garnering the attention of both his co-worker and the stranger. 

They both turn to look at him, Santana smiling slyly and the newcomer looking at Santana with both irritation and fondness. Blaine understands. Santana can have that effect on people. 

“Sure did, Hobbit.” Santana says, motioning Blaine forward. “This here is Lady Hummel, or Kurt to you. He’s going to be working with us for a while." 

Blaine’s eyebrows rise in surprise. "You must be pretty good.” he addresses Kurt, “She usually terrorizes new meat for a while before officially hiring them." 

Santana shrugs, unashamed. She’s picky about who she’ll let do work in her shop. She’ll only accept the best, for herself and her customers. Blaine has always assumed that’s the reason why she has so little ink done on herself. For the owner of a tattoo parlor she has a surprising amount of blank skin. Blaine’s not like that. He would feel naked without the tattoos that cover his body. 

"I don’t doubt it for a second.” Kurt laughs, a laugh that’s high and musical. It reminds Blaine of the wind-chimes they have hanging in the far back of the shop, also known as the artist’s lounge. 

“Porcelain and I go way back.” Santana explains, “he’s staying with me for an undetermined amount of time, and since he’s a damn good artist i figured this was a good way for him to earn his keep. I can’t just start taking in strays from the goodness of my heart." 

Kurt rolls his eyes beside her, and Blaine chuckles. "I’m guessing you want me to show him around?" 

Santana nods. "He’s not starting until tomorrow, but it would be easier to make him a little less clueless today.” She gives Kurt a small shove in Blaine’s direction, and he gives her a look. 

“Well go on, follow Frodo.” She insists, and then returns her attention to the appointment book on the front desk. 

Kurt and Blaine lock eyes, and Blaine supplies an inviting smile with a motion over his shoulder. A silent “Shall we go?” 

Kurt nods. And Blaine turns to go back through the curtains and beads, this time with his new co-worker following close behind. 

——————————–

“…and this is the artist’s lounge. It’s basically a glorified break room.” They’ve reached the end of the tour, and Blaine is taking Kurt through the red door at the back of the shop that leads to the small back room. 

It’s a mix of different styles, the back room. The walls are painted a deep red, Santana’s favorite color, but the paint-job only makes appearances in patches. Most of the wall space is taken up by posters from different bands and movies, wall hangings, and pictures of the staff together pinned to the wall with no semblance of order or organization. The small coffee table in the center of the room is littered with sketch books and coffee cups—they each have their own mug that they brought from home. There’s yet another sound system tucked into one corner, and an old coffee machine in the corner opposite that. Around the coffee table is an old couch with cushions that sink inward in the best way and a tattered blanket thrown over its back, one cheetah-print beanbag that was donated by Lauren’s boyfriend, and some thick cushions on the floor next to that. Blaine’s not sure where those cushions came from, but none of them match.

“I like it.” Kurt says, casting an appreciative gaze around the room.

“It’s home.” Blaine supplies, because it’s true. He spends more time in that back room, drinking coffee on breaks and then beer after closing time, talking to the girls or singing loudly to whatever music is playing, than he does in his apartment. “We’re kind of a little family here.” He looks over to find Kurt looking back at him with an expression he can’t quite place.

“I can tell.” Kurt finally says, and the share a small smile.

Blaine’s already decided he likes Kurt. He has a sarcastic wit, but not in the scathing way that Santana does. With Kurt, you know that you’re always in on the joke too, rather than the subject of comedy. He has a portion of a collarbone tattoo peeking out from behind his shirt, though Blaine can’t make out what it is, and a bar of music wrapping around one forearm. Blaine wonders what song it is, but he’s not about to ask. His sandy hair is done up in an immaculate swoop, not a hair out of place. Blaine tries not to compare it to the mess of curls that he’s currently hiding under a navy beanie. The vest he wears over his button-up shirt shows off a thin waist, and his faded blue jeans disappear into shiny black boots.

Blaine’s still thinking when Kurt breaks the silence. “So… I’m guessing Frodo isn’t really your name?”

Blaine widens his eyes, had he really not told Kurt his name during the entire tour? “Oh! No… no. It’s Blaine. But you’ll never actually hear Santana call me that. I tried to stop her when she first started calling me that, but my efforts were not helped along by the fact that I’ve got a tattoo in Elvish.” He holds up his right hand, where said tattoo is wrapped around one finger in a thin loop.

Kurt’s lips quirk up into a smile.

“Santana didn’t mention you were coming.” Blaine says casually. He thought it odd that he hadn’t been told about Kurt in advance, this was the kind of thing the parlour owner (and Blaine’s best friend) would usually run by him.

Kurt shifts from foot to foot. “Well I didn’t really give her the chance. I just got into California this morning.” He admits, “She didn’t even know I was here until I showed up at the shop about ten minutes before she called you up front.”

Blaine isn’t able to hide his surprised look. And Kurt just shrugs.

“I never stay in one place for long.” The newcomer admits, “I wasn’t even sure that I was coming here until I stepped off the bus.”

Now Blaine is definitely intrigued, but he decides not to ask any questions. If the curiosity gets too much, he can ask Santana for some information later. Right now he just doesn’t want to step on Kurt’s toes. Especially since they’ll be working together.

“Well, Kurt.” Blaine says, flashing a charming smile, “Let me be the first to say: Welcome to Valerie’s Ink. I think you’ll fit right in.”

Kurt smiles brightly back at him, taking his extended hand. “I can honestly say I’m glad that I’m here.”

Blaine thinks, Yeah, he is too.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s not uncommon for Puck to come into the shop. He’s Lauren’s boyfriend, after all. Even if he weren’t, he’s friends with all of them. He’s a funny dude, if a little crude. Blaine doesn’t mind goofing off with him when he needs some guy time. Plus, Santana has been close to Puck for what sounds to Blaine like forever. From what he hears, Santana learned how to tattoo by testing out her skills on Puck’s arms and back.

This is why it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Blaine that Puck had known Kurt forever, too.

As soon as Puck sees Kurt, leaning against the front counter and talking to Blaine, he’s wrapping his arms around Kurt’s slender torso and lifting him up into the air.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Puck struggles to keep the squirming artist in his grasp, “Stop wiggling so much, dude, it’s impossible to hold you like this.”

Kurt grunts, studded black boots kicking wildly. “Did it ever occur to you that that is exactly why I’m resisting so much, Noah?”

Puckerman laughs and puts Kurt back down on the ground, grabbing his shoulders and placing a wet, smacking kiss onto Kurt’s lips. “I missed you.”

At the earnest tone in Puck’s voice, Kurt’s expression softens. “I missed you too.”

They embrace again, this time consensually. Blaine looks on, too shocked to move.

Kurt’s not a very physical guy, especially when it comes to males. He prefers to avoid unnecessary touching with anyone who isn’t Santana, and Blaine has never once seen Kurt so much as shake hands with a customer. He always seems to take comfort in distance. The only time Kurt usually lets his skin come in contact with someone else’s is when he’s working; head bowed close to the skin he’s working on, blue eyes sharp in concentration, glove-covered fingers mapping out his canvas before pressing needle to skin.

It’s odd to see him so physically close with someone, especially since neither Kurt nor Puck have ever mentioned each other to Blaine before.

Santana comes to stand beside Blaine then, her uniform smirk on her ruby-red lips. While Blaine watches Kurt and Puck catch up, she watches Blaine.

“Envy green really isn’t your color, Anderson.” She says, and he jumps.

“How do you always sneak up on me like that?” He asks, glancing at her with his peripheral vision. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not jealous of anyone.”

Santana rolls her eyes, turning so that her entire body faces Blaine, her hip against the counter. “It’s not hard to sneak up on you when you’re always staring at Kurt with that baby-koala look in your eyes. And yes, you totally are.”

Blaine opens his mouth to retaliate, but then Kurt is laying one of his delicate hands on Puck’s muscled bicep, and he loses the words.

“…Right. Like I said: jealous.” Santana repeats. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, anyway. I mean once upon a time those two used to do the dance with no pants, but it was never an emotional thing. They just never got over the whole constantly-touching part.”

Blaine’s eyes widen, and he finally looks at Santana. “I thought Puck was straight.”

The Latina shrugs, focusing her gaze on her polished nails. “Puck’s sexuality is horny. He doesn’t have the brain capacity for much more complexity than that.”

Blaine takes a moment to let this new information sink in. “And Lauren doesn’t mind that they’re still so… touchy?”

Santana lets out a derisive chuckle, pulls a cigarette out from the neckline of her tank-top and lights it up. There’s technically no smoking allowed in the shop, but since Santana owns the place the rules don’t apply to her. “She doesn’t mind nearly as much as you apparently do.”

Blaine wants to defend himself against her implications, but he knows she can see right through him, so he doesn’t bother.

It’s just after closing time. Kurt and Blaine are tasked with closing up shop for the day, and Kurt has invited Blaine to go out for a smoke break before they start preparing the parlour for lock-up.

The shop is on the boardwalk, so they take their smoke breaks on the waist-high wall that divides the street from the actual beach. Blaine doesn’t smoke, but he likes to go out anyway just for the view. It’s beautiful, especially at this time of night just before sunset. The sky is just starting to bloom with pinks, oranges and purples. The ocean reflects the images back, and it brings to mind a scene of colorful silk scarves dropped into the water, billowing with the waves.

He and Kurt sit in silence for some time, listening to the waves, letting the warm breeze ruffle Blaine’s curls and carry the smoke from Kurt’s cigarette away.

“So… You and Puck are… close?” Blaine asks, internally cursing the awkward tone to his voice. When he was a kid, his inability to be casual if he was hiding anything had gotten him into tons of trouble, but he thinks it’s probably even more of a hindrance to him now. 

Kurt studies Blaine’s expression. His blue-green eyes narrow slightly, and his mouth presses into a firm line. Blaine feels like Kurt can see right through him, past the ever-changing canvas of his skin and straight into his chest, where a ball of insecurity rests like a heavy stone. “What did Santana tell you?”

Blaine blushes, embarrassed at being so transparent. “Just that you two had a history. She also implied it may have been more-than-friendly.” Blaine tries to make it sound like he knows less than he does. The last thing he wants is for Kurt to get angry with him for asking Santana about his personal life. They’ve only just started to get to know one another, but Blaine already knows he wants Kurt to like him. He’s always wanted people to like him. But he wants Kurt to like him really badly.

“You forget that I know Santana.” Kurt says with an eye roll. “She never just implies anything. She enjoys gritty details way too much for that.” Kurt takes a drag from his cigarette. He tilts his face toward the yellowing sky, holding the smoke in his lungs. His eyes are closed and there is a small smile on his face, the sun is just about to begin the journey downward to the horizon, and it casts a pleasant warm glow over Kurt’s sharp features. Blaine lets himself stare, suspended in the moment between Kurt’s inhale and when he finally releases his smoky breath into the air.

“So she told you that Puck and I used to fool around?”

“Basically. Yeah.” Blaine admits.

Kurt nods, stubbing out his cigarette on the wood beside him. “It’s not as interesting as she is probably making it out to be, trust me.” Blaine doesn’t say anything, just waits for Kurt to continue. “Puck’s interest in me was purely experimental. It was fun for both of us, but it really wasn’t any deeper than that. He’s my friend and I love him, but I would have to be an idiot to date that boy after knowing him for as long as I have. There are some things you see when you know a guy that long that just… don’t make romantic connections a viable path anymore. You know?”

Blaine nods, but he doesn’t know. Not really. He’s only ever had sex with one person and at the time he was sure that had been love. It’s not that he’s frigid or uncomfortable with the idea of casual sex, but he’s only twenty. He’s got plenty of time for casual sex, when and if he should choose to get around to it.

“So was there any particular reason you wanted to know about Puck? You’re not lusting after him, are you? Because as much as I’m sure he wouldn’t care, Lauren terrifies me and I’d hate to see you die so young.” Kurt smiles at Blaine, nudging Blaine’s shoulder with his own to let him know he’s just joking around.

Blaine laughs along. It’s easy to laugh with Kurt, Blaine finds. His presence puts him into a comfortable kind of ease.

“I was actually just… curious.” Blaine offers lamely. “And Santana seemed almost too eager to share the information with me. I think she found it entertaining.” Blaine recalls the look on her face when she caught him watching Puck and Kurt, and he knows that she’s getting thorough entertainment from watching him pine.

“Santana finds everything at other people’s expense entertaining.” Kurt comments dryly. He shifts on the small wall they’re sitting on, bending one leg up so that the heel of his boot rests on the edge of the surface. “And what is it about me that has got you so curious, Blaine?” Kurt asks, giving Blaine a knowing look. Kurt is leaning closer, his eyelids are low and the edges of his lips are drawn up in a coy smile. It’s almost like teasing, but with a companionable fondness to it. It’s almost like flirting.

Blaine doesn’t have a response; he just stares back at Kurt with a blank expression. A deer caught in the headlights that are Kurt’s bright eyes. 

The silence drags on. It’s probably only a few short moments, but to a shell-shocked Blaine it feels much longer before Kurt’s face is breaking and his features are shifting into a bright smile. “I’m just messing with you, Blaine!” he exclaims, “But you’re adorable when you’re all flustered like that.”

Blaine sputters. “I… I am not adorable!” He insists, “I’m intimidating. Tattoos, piercings, I’m a parent’s nightmare!” Blaine jokes, motioning to the designs on his bare arms, revealed thanks to the way he’s cut off the sleeves of his band t-shirt. He even tries to growl like a pitbull, for the effect. He comes off sounding more like an injured Pomeranian.

Kurt giggles, patting Blaine twice on the head. “Aww. That’s adorable.”


End file.
